


Did You Really Think I’d Still Love You?

by AlexTheNonBinary



Series: Magi Fanfictions [1]
Category: Magi: Adventure of Sinbad (Anime), Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: He needs more love, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied Sinbad/Jafar, Multi, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Rape/Non-con Elements, Someone get the king a hug, That doesn't include Iniko, The OC’s an ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24968356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexTheNonBinary/pseuds/AlexTheNonBinary
Summary: “Did you really think I still harboured any sort of feelings for you? Did you really think I’d still love you?”“After what you did to me!?”
Relationships: Past Sinbad/OC
Series: Magi Fanfictions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807174
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Memories I Could Live Without

Sinbad hoped he’d never see that face again. He had hoped with his body, mind and  _ soul _ that he’d never have to lay his eyes on that devilishly deceiving soft black hair. The bright blue eyes that always seemed so earnest. He never wanted to see them again.

But, he knew his luck had to run out someday.

He was just looking out of his bedroom window, having not had a mountain of work for once, when he recognised the silky black hair he hadn’t seen for years. His heart sunk in his chest. No way. But there was no way that hair belonged to anyone else.

_ His ex. _

Sinbad’s abusive ex-boyfriend from his birthplace was walking up to the castle in dirty rags, looking absolutely terrible and malnourished. Part of Sinbad wanted to leave him there and ignore him, but the other part longed to help the frail man. 

He wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or agitated when he noticed Hinahoho, who was going for a stroll out of boredom, stop near him and asked if he was in need of food or water.

Sinbad couldn’t stop watching as Hinahoho led the man towards the castle, his heart jumping in his chest. Fear overtook his body and mind as he pushed himself away from the window. Unpleasant memories that he had long tried to forget swam to his head.

_ Slap. _

_ Kick. _

_ Punch. _

_ “You useless little slut.” _

_ Slap. _

_ Kick. _

_ Punch. _

_ “Such a whore, hmm, my little fucktoy?” _

_ ‘Let me go!’ _

_ “Scream, and your oh-so precious mother will be next.” _

_ Silence. _

He grabbed at his chest, trying to calm his rapid breathing. Sinbad let out a choked sob as he slid down the wall.

He didn’t want to remember.

He had never been so terrified.

Al-Thamen didn’t hold a candle in comparison.

The fear of being taken advantage of… was something he was uncannily familiar with.

Sinbad rubbed his eyes and stood up, checking his face in the mirror before leaving.  _ Some food might help _ .

_______

Nope. Food definitely does not help. Sinbad felt like throwing up, with the horrible memories continuously replaying behind his eyelids. Nevertheless, he stood up and walked around his room, just waiting for one of his employees (he preferred to refer to them as that,) to knock on his door and say someone was downstairs, waiting for him.

As if on cue, a knock rang through the room. “Come in,” Sinbad announced, embarrassed by the way his voice cracked slightly from crying earlier, having not spoken to anyone since. Ja’far stepped into the roof silently, only the intentional soft patter of his feet alerting Sinbad of his entry.

“Sin,” Ja’far said, “There’s someone waiting for you outside, they claim to know you personally…”

The king hoped his advisor didn’t notice his slight flinch as all the aches from those years came back to him.

_ Jaw. _

_ Lips. _

_ Wrists. _

_ Arms. _

_ Gut. _

_ Ankles. _

_ Neck. _

_ Back. _

_ Thighs. _

“Okay, thank you, Ja’far, I’ll be out in a moment,” Sinbad smiled, closing his eyes.  _ Hide it. Hide like you always do. They don’t need to know. They’ll hate you. You know they’ll hate you if they do. _

Ja’far felt something slightly off at Sinbad’s expression. It seemed… forced. But surely he was seeing things, Sinbad was…  _ Sinbad _ ! Surely he would tell if something was amiss.

But as Ja’far left, he felt greatly disturbed by how much more and more unlikely that seemed as he thought about it.

______

Sinbad adjusted his metal vessels that suddenly seemed too over-the-top and restricting, before heading outside.  _ Maybe he’s changed. _ Sinbad thought, trying to calm his nerves.

He stepped outside, trying to avoid eye-contact with everyone until absolutely necessary as he walked up to Ja’far, who was standing next to  _ him _ .

The man noticed Sinbad and his face brightened. “Sinbad! How are you? What’s going on? How’s life?”

The king let out a shaky breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m fine, even better without you here though, Iniko.”


	2. All Over Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHH I'M SORRY SIIINNNNNNNNNNN
> 
> (Rape warning)
> 
> ‘Iniko’ is a Nigerian name meaning ‘time of trouble’.

Sinbad suddenly hated the fact that he was expected to be polite to guests. But he was a king, he couldn’t soil his reputation for this asshole simply because of some post-traumatic-stress-disorder.

Ja’far had immediately picked up on the air of bad blood between the two… past acquaintances? That alone made Ja’far suspicious of the guy, there were many people Sinbad disliked, but never was he so obvious with it.

Sinbad’s expression seemed much more forced than it looked when Ja’far had told him of Iniko’s presence, but the man seemed to not care. There was a glint of something in his blue eyes that made Ja’far shiver. Something wasn’t right here.

“This is the guest room you may stay in until you get stable housing,” Sinbad said, motioning to a room. Ja’far seethed as Iniko grabbed Sinbad’s arm and trailed his finger along the muscle. 

“Aw, but I want to stay in your room,” Iniko whispered lustfully into Sinbad’s ear, pausing before adding, “Love,”

Sinbad’s eyes widened and he jolted backwards, effectively knocking Iniko off of his arm in the process. “What the hell? No!” Sinbad refused. Ja’far watched in surprise.  _ ‘Love’ _ ? That was typically a nickname reserved for those in a relationship, even those who wished to sleep with the king never used  _ that _ nickname on him.

“Sin, come, you have paperwork to sign, Iniko, you should rest,” Ja’far suggested forcefully. Iniko seemed to get the hint and walked to his room, sweat dropping at the sharp glare he felt on his back.

“Good riddance,” Sinbad mumbled, glaring at the door Iniko slipped through. Ja’far’s eyebrows furrowed in worry and confusion - he could tell he was obviously missing something here, the interaction between the guest and king, and Sinbad’s reaction to that interaction.

“Sin, who is that?” Ja’far asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. Sinbad almost jumped, only adding to the weight of concern, worry and  _ fear _ in his advisor’s chest.

“No one of importance,” Sinbad answered quickly. _ Damned trauma! _ Ja’far scowled, knowing Sinbad was fully aware he wanted more information on Iniko than how important he was.

“Sin, who is that?” He repeated, harsher this time. Sinbad sighed, resting his hand on the back of his neck.

“He’s, uh, my ex?” Sinbad confessed. Ja’far’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.  _ Sinbad _ had an  _ ex _ !? Why was he not told of this? Did anyone else know? Why didn’t Sin tell him? What-

Ja’far was so wrapped up in his thoughts of the bizarre situation that he didn’t notice as Sinbad snuck off to his room.

_______(RAPE WARNING)_______

Sinbad woke up to footsteps in his room. At first, he thought it was Ja’far, but the footsteps were heavier and less careful. They reminded him of something, right in the corner of his mind…

“Sinny~,” A familiar voice rang in his ears. Suddenly he remembered who the footsteps reminded him of.

_ Iniko _ .

“Iniko, what are you doing here?” Sinbad asked, sitting up. He glared tiredly at hell’s human reincarnation through his messy, unbrushed hair. His clothes, which he had decided to keep on because of the discomfort Iniko’s presence brought, were wrinkled and hung loosely on his shoulder.

“Why don’t we go back to old times,  _ love _ ?”

No. No, Sinbad did not want to go back to ‘old times’. ‘Old times’ were full of pain and fear. ‘Old times’ were nothing but secrets that shouldn’t have to be kept. ‘Old times’ were days filled with self-shame and hate. He’d do anything to not go back, even if it meant losing everything, just don’t put him through ‘old times’ again.

Sinbad wanted to do something,  _ anything, _ to refuse wholeheartedly, but his body had frozen against his will. He tried to speak, to shake his head, anything that would indicate a  _ no _ , but he couldn’t. He could only watch in horror as Iniko approached his bed with an all-too-familiar glint in his eye.

“Aww, it’s not any fun when you don’t struggle…” He whined. He took something out of a bag on his back - chains and metal cuffs.

Sinbad’s body finally was granted the ability to move, but it was too late - the cuffs were already on his wrists.  _ Just like before _ . Iniko wrapped the chains that were connected to the cuffs around the bedpost and secured them.

“Relax, love. Resisting will just make your punishment worse~,” 

“Get away from me!” Sinbad growled, pulling against the chains with all the strength he could muster. Apparently, the bedpost wasn’t that strong, because it snapped and started towards Sinbad at an alarming speed. Luckily, he wasn’t inexperienced at dodging, so he quickly moved his head away.

“Wow, you have gotten stronger! Well, looks like this will be all the more fun!” Iniko laughed sadistically. Sinbad thrashed wildly against his restraints. He knew too well where this was going.

“No! Get out-,” Sinbad was cut off by a cloth being shoved into his mouth. He felt the cold air touching his skin as his clothes were torn. He kept struggling, but he was chained down and had none of his metal vessels close enough to him to be able to use them.

“You’re so fun~,” Iniko smirked. Tears pricked the corner’s of Sinbad’s eyes as his ex’s hands roamed over his body. The king couldn’t concentrate enough to manipulate any magoi. 

The thrusts were painful and careless, the hands on his body rough and calloused. He desperately tried to think of something else as a hard bite that drew blood landed on his neck, but he could think of nothing but the hell he had experienced so many times before.

______(Rape over)______

Sinbad must’ve fallen unconscious at some point during the night. He woke up to the sun blaring in his face, blood covering his sheets, and a sense of helplessness. 


	3. Ja’far’s Discorvery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t the last chapter, k?  
> Also, Iniko can fucking _leave ___

Sinbad groaned in pain, his entire body aching.  _ Clean up. You don’t want to be found like this, do you? _

With a well muffled yelp, Sinbad got out of bed and silently thanked whoever designed the rooms for adding adjacent bathrooms. It was an uncomfortable walk, his thighs, arms, neck, and everything else aching from the previous night. It scared him how calm he felt after being raped again by Iniko, but he guessed he was just used to it.

Being used to it didn’t make it any easier.

Being used to it didn’t make it any less painful.

Being used to it didn't make it okay.

He had the power to stop Iniko, heck, he could kill him if he wanted.

But that piece of his heart was still in that demon’s vice-like grasp. A small piece, a deteriorating piece, but a piece nonetheless.

He turned on the water for the bath and tried to even out his breathing. He felt disgusting. He was disgusting. He couldn’t stop it. No, that’s not right. He  _ wouldn’t _ stop it. He wanted to, wholeheartedly, but he wouldn’t.

Sinbad turned off the water and slid into the bathtub, hissing as the hot water washed over his scabbing wounds. He sat down, letting the water soak into his skin. It was comforting, heavenly in contrast to the current amount of comfort his bed brought to him.

Slipping his head under the water, Sinbad ran his fingers through his hair, combing out the dried blood that had dripped onto it from Iniko’s bite. He hated everything about this. He had so much power.  _ So much.  _ And yet he couldn’t stop Iniko, who was malnourished and weak from travel.

What was he really worth now?

Iniko had taken so much, yet given so little in return. Anger filled him. So did despair. So did their friends, sadness, anxiety, PTSD, and hate.

Iniko deserved so much worse.

___________

Ja’far was concerned - all the generals were. Over a period of only six days, Sinbad started refusing to leave his room, even for food. Employees would leave his meals outside his door, which for the most part was left untouched. He wasn’t letting anyone inside but seemed to occasionally go on short walks around the castle grounds, covering his entire body - or so Yamraiha told.

Iniko, however, seemed too relaxed and even happy with Sinbad’s unusual behaviour, and it got on Ja’far’s nerves. He was a guest, sure, but even guests knew Sinbad was a very social person.

It unsettled him.

___________

  
  


One day, Ja’far noticed Sinbad returning to his room after a walk in his casual clothes. They were very simple, if it weren’t for Sinbad’s build you easily could’ve thought him a townsperson.

“Sin!” He called, unprepared for the flinch he received from Sinbad. The king looked up and Ja’far took a mental step back. Sinbad’s eyes were wide and fearful, his cheeks were sunken, and there were what seemed to be deep bite marks all over his neck.

“Holy shit, Sin what happened to you!?” Ja’far exclaimed, starting straight towards Sinbad, but before he could reach the king, he had slipped back into his room, a startled expression on his face. 

Had his advisor been concerned before, he was absolutely terrified now.

If Sinbad’s condition seemed bad before, it was critical now.

If something was wrong before, the world was ending now.

“Sin? Sin, let me in,” Ja’far asked at the door, holding the handle lightly. There was no response from the other side for a while, until a soft rattling on the handle alerted Ja’far of the door being unlocked. It opened hesitantly before letting Ja’far see into the messy, unkept room.

He walked in cautiously, unused to the timid, reserved side of Sinbad. He felt uncomfortable as his eyes scanned the room - clothes were torn up and scattered all over the floor, bedsheets were messy and unmade.

“W…” Ja’far trailed off when his gaze landed on Sinbad. He was curled up on a chair, very untalkative and quiet, avoiding his advisor’s eyes. “Sin, what happened? You never let your room get this messy…”

It was true - contrary to popular belief, Sinbad hated any mess whatsoever and often cleaned his room to keep it organised. If he had been tired, there would be some clothes on the floor here and there but they were never there for more than two days.

Sinbad mumbled something through his sleeves. His eyes seemed filled with reluctance but a want to tell. Suddenly the doors began rattling and Sinbad’s head shot up. He made direct eye-contact with Ja’far for the first time in a week and mouthed ‘hide’.

Ja’far immediately ran to the closet and hid, as told. The doors burst open and Iniko walked in, a cruel smirk on his face. “Oh Sin~” He said in a sing-song tone, “Come out, come out wherever you are~!”

“Here, Iniko…” Sinbad whispered, his voice soft and cracking. Iniko spun around and grabbed Sinbad by the collar. 

“I heard you went on another ‘stroll’. You were trying to get help again, weren’t you?” Iniko hissed, throwing Sinbad onto his bed like a rag doll. The sheets moved and that’s when Ja’far noticed the bloodstains. So many bloodstains.

“No! I just wanted some fresh air, I swe-,”

_ Slap. _

Ja’far had to stop himself from barging out and snapping Iniko’s neck right then and there. He was told to hide, so he was going to remain hidden. 

He watched through the crack in the door, silently seething, as Iniko tore off Sinbad’s clothing carelessly, discarding the expensive fabric, now as good as rags, on the floor. The bite marks Ja’far noticed before extended far down Sinbad’s chest, along with whip, burn, and knife marks.

_ What kind of torture… _

“No! Get off of me!” Sinbad shouted, his voice bold but his eyes fearful. Iniko didn’t halt in his approach, only smiling deeper.

“You say that every time, my little slut. It never does anything, does it?”

“I’m not your slut, Iniko, now get off of me,” 

“Oh~ You seem more stubborn today~ Let’s see how long that lasts, hmm?” 

Ja’far couldn’t watch idly anymore and stepped out of the closet. “Iniko, I will ask you to leave Sindria now.”

“And if I don’t?” Iniko snapped, far to confident. “I’ve gotten your king to submit to me!”

“Yeah, with  _ magoi sealing handcuffs _ ,” Sinbad hissed spitefully. Iniko turned around and glared at Sinbad, who, despite knowing he was safe now, shrunk back in fear.

“Leave. Iniko, you will leave Sindria for physically and mentally abusing the king, amongst other acts that easily constitute imprisonment.”

Iniko growled before giving up and leaving the king's room. The moment the door closed, Ja’far rushed over to Sinbad.

“Oh god, Sin, what did he do to you?”


End file.
